Saturday, July 8, 2017

Stage Seven

No Giant Screen viewing for me on this stage as it was situated on a narrow road between vineyards alongside the finishing stretch with not a sliver of shade. I arrived at noon, more than five hours before the peloton, and though there were a few fans already lined up along the barriers, most were cowering in the minimal shade the barriers provided. The sun was seering and not even the cold water the Vittel reps were passing out was enough to entice me to stay.

The heat was melting my brain. I committed a semi-catastrophic faux pas heading to Dijon for the next stage start rather than Dole. I didn't realize my mistake until I reached the tourist office in Dijon and asked where the departure point for The Tour was the next day and the woman at the desk didn't have a map or brochure at the ready and had to go to the computer to find out. It was only a twenty-mile mistake, but since every mile is crucial, this was a huge setback. There were some consolations though.

Dijon is a much bigger city than Dole, and I was able to find a bike shop with just the tire I needed. My rear tire had worn through the tread. Usually I put on a new tire at the Grand Départ, but since I was some 500 miles short on my training this year due to my limited mileage riding with Jamina for two weeks, I wasn't in need of a new tire just yet, nor to put on a new chain, which I did at the same time. The forty-minute mechanical was my lunch/rest stop and also allowed me to recharge my iPad, as my generator hub has slowed down on the job. I'm only getting about half the charge I was earlier. I don't know if it's due to the generator wearing out or the adapter or the batteries I'm charging.

It had been twenty miles from Nuits-Saint-Georges, the stage finish, to Dijon, then thirty miles to Dole. Nuits-Saint-Georges is a wine town. It was lined with small wineries offering tastings.

Many of its Tour decorations were wine oriented.

The fans along the route also joined in the spirit. One of the top French riders is a Pinot.

It was doubly embarrassing to have confused Dijon with Dole because I passed through Dole on my way to Düsseldorf to scout out The Tour route. It still paid off as I know where the starting point was below the city center along a river and sporting fields. My way into the city hadn't taken me pat any course markers, so I would have been groping. I was three miles into the neutralized zone that went on for five miles when Skippy came towards me. It was nearly eight p.m. and he was just competing the transfer from Nuits-Saint-Georges. My first question for him was, "Who won the stage," as I had been so undone by my diversion I hadn't bothered to stop to follow it on my iPad. It was no surprise that Kittel had won his third spring, though this was in a photo finish, in contrast to his convincing two-bike length win the day before. He also accumulated enough points to take the Green Jersey from Démare. But without Sagan, it is a hollow conquest.

Skippy was heading into the city looking for a place to stay, hopefully a hostel, while I was heading out of the city knowing I had an idyllic campsite awaiting me. He seemed to have no more worries than me, knowing he always finds a place and that it will have an interesting story. Last night he ended up in a convent, locked into an attic room with a chamber pot as his toilet until the sisters let him out in the morning.

I had an hour of cycling ahead of me, but it only got me ten miles down the course. Without my Dijon fiasco, I would have been at least twenty miles further. I camped in a field just beyond Belmont, which had lined all its hedges and walls on the route with Yellow.

It had even Yellowfied it's crucifix.

When I stopped for one photo someone asked if I needed water and filled my bottle with cold fluid. The evening before when I had stopped outside a tourist office to take advantage of its wifi and also to prepare my dinner of ravioli and couscous a woman asked if I'd like her to heat up my meal for me. My most exemplary act of kindness though came in Luxembourg when I had stopped in a bus shelter with seats for a snack. As I was eating a guy who had been washing his car across the street came over and put a cup of coffee and a slice of apple bread on the seat beside me without saying a word. At first I thought he was reserving the seat for himself, but then realized this was an offering. It came with two packs of sugar and a stir stick.

George on the Road

A pic of George from a Chicago Reader story. Click on the photo for the story. Go to April 17, 2010 for a "Streetwise" cover story, Oct. 25, 2005 for a "Holllywood Reporter" story, January 1, 2002 for a Chicago Tribune story.

George's Cyclotouring Blog

George Christensen has been cyclotouring for decades, spending a good part of the year wandering around the world on his bicycle. He has biked the length of three continents (North America, South America, Australia) and one sub-continent (India). Included here are reports on some of his more recent travels:

For the past thirteen years he's followed the Tour de France, riding much of each year's route, fully loaded, before or after the peloton and sent out regular reports during the race, also posted here.

He has a long-running email list that he sends updates to every few days when he's on tour.

You can write him at: george6567@yahoo.com. If you like, he'll add you to his e-list.

He spends the rest of the year also on a bike, working as a messenger in Chicago.

He's also an independent film enthusiast, attending or working at several major film festivals annually, including Telluride and Cannes. His coverage of Cannes is also included here in May of 2004-2015.

For a "Chicago Tribune" article on George see the January 17, 2002 entry of the blog. There is also a "Hollywood Reporter" article posted October 25, 2005, and a "Streetwise" cover story posted on April 17, 2010 and stories in French newspapers the past few summers.

(I'm Jeff Potter and I helped George get his blog going. I run OutYourBackDoor.com, where I report on a wide range of everyday, affordable, healthy outdoor action. I also sell some hard-to-find indy culture media and other goodies. Lotsa bike stuff!)